


Can't be returned

by Cutebutpsycho



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 08:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutebutpsycho/pseuds/Cutebutpsycho
Summary: Tumblr fic, prompted by limbosplaything: It was colder than usual, and Mycroft had left his gloves at home.





	Can't be returned

Normally he’d know better than to go storming out of the house on a January night, but he was seven and really could be forgiven for youthful impatience for once.

He stood outside in the garden, teeth chattering and his hands shoved in his pockets watching the stars move through the blue-black sky. Inside he could hear the sounds of adults chattering, glasses tinkling and the muffled noises of people cooing over the baby.

 _Ugh_ , he thought, frowning ever-so-slightly. 

He took his hands out and rubbed them together, then stamped his feet. There was no way he was going back into that house after storming out. Not even if his hands turned bright pink and stung from the cold. He was not going to make nice with anyone – especially not that tiny, mewling, puking little –

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a pair of gloves drop down on top of his head. Glancing up, he saw his mother staring down at him, a stern look on her face.

“Mykie,” she chided. “Next time you storm out, you had better be prepared.”

He took the gloves from her, but said nothing. He was angry at Mummy for everything. For being busy all the time, for not paying attention to him and just when she had finished her research, there was something else for her to be busy with. That stupid, stinking little –

The thought fled his mind as he felt himself enclosed by her coat. His face peeked up at her, and she had a small smile on her face. It was pleasantly warm under the coat, he had to admit. 

“Mmm,” he heard her rumble. “Taurus is rising,” she murmmured, a gloved arm pointing to a cluster of stars. 

“There’s Orion,” he said, his gloved hand pointing to another cluster. “And Rigel.”

“Very good,” she said. 

Another silence spanned through the night, but this one was warmer. 

“I’m sorry,” Mummy said after awhile. “I forgot how hard this can be for you also.”

“Can we take him back?” Mycroft asked. “Get a cat instead?”

Mummy’s body shook with laughter. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “We can’t just stick him back where he came from.”

“Pity.”

There was another warm chuckle. “I know you don’t believe me,” she said. “But someday you’re going to be glad that you have a brother.”

“I highly doubt that.”


End file.
